


Cold (day 3- Jail cell/Stabbed)

by Only_Slightly_Obsessed (A_Stressed_Cupcake)



Series: Rémy's 2020 Multifandom Whumptober Works [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Very bleak, canon divergence of a canon divergence, like wow, this is very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26933917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Stressed_Cupcake/pseuds/Only_Slightly_Obsessed
Summary: Enjolras always knew he was not long for the world. Why wouldn't he?_____Whumptober 2020- day 3: Jail cell/Stabbed
Relationships: Enjolras & Les Amis de l'ABC
Series: Rémy's 2020 Multifandom Whumptober Works [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965271
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Cold (day 3- Jail cell/Stabbed)

**Author's Note:**

> canon divergence of a canon divergence aka my other Les Mis fic which you can find here if you need more context: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25871398/chapters/62862739
> 
> cw for les mis-typical depressing things such as violence and major character death. You know, the usual.

Enjolras always knew he was not long for the world. Why wouldn't he? 

His father's warnings that the revolution would bring nothing but death stopped working on him after the age of ten. In all fairness, he heeded them. He just didn't care.

Being at the barricade was different.

Nothing could have fully prepared him for the sheer chaos of it: the noise, the blood, the smell of gunpowder, the feeling of the carbine in his hands. Nothing.

Most of all, nothing could have prepared him for what came after.

The prison is cold, colder than he thought, even in June, and the only warmth he can find is in blood.

Not his own, which has not been spilt once by some cruel trick of fate, but Grantaire's blood. The only one that hadn't been murdered on that fateful 6th of June shall fall on the 7th. It's cruel. It is. It feels like a punishment ( _ a punishment for what? _ Cries his scattered mind).

The knife missed everything that could've killed him quickly, but, without a way to stop the blood, without a way to clean the wound, he is doomed either way. Even if he, by some miracle, survives, they're still in the power of those same officers and soldiers that left him to bleed. They can kill him whenever they want, and Enjolras will not be able to stop it.

It's torture, and it's intended to be that way. Breaking his bones one by one would not get him to answer their question and they know it. Hanging him from the hands of a clock with his only surviving companion's life on the line?

It's meant to work. It's an effective strategy. It's meant to work.

And it does.

" _ Marius Pontmercy _ ." he murmurs, surrounded by officers in the hospital room. 

Two words.

Grantaire is angry with him,  _ really _ angry, for the first time in his life. He doesn't stand at his side in front of the firing squad this time, though to be fair to him he wasn't given a choice.

Enjolras accepts the bandage.

In the darkness, he can almost pretend he's not alone.

**Author's Note:**

> THAT'S RIGHT I CANON DIVERTED MY OWN CANON DIVERGENCE  
> This is how much I love angsty canon divergences. More please.
> 
> I guess you could say we were...........two words away from this outcome. 
> 
> -Rémy


End file.
